


The Puppet Maker

by Seitou (lady_date)



Series: Puppets and their Maker [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Fractured Fairy Tale, Horror, M/M, Multi, Murder puppets, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rating May Change, Romantic Horror, Somnophilia, Supernatural Elements, Tags May Change, mentions of child death, onesided - Duo/Heero, onesided - Relena/Heero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_date/pseuds/Seitou
Summary: There is a talents young craftsman in a village who mostly keeps to himself. After years of hard work, planning, and saving he is able to make his masterpieces, a pair of life sized puppets modeled after friends he lost long ago. Not long after their completion however, things seem to go awry so very quickly for anyone who tries to keep the creations for their maker.





	The Puppet Maker

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long time since I've written anything horror related so thank you a head of time for your patience. Also English is my first language, but this is un-betad and my brain thinks faster than I can type so I apologize for grammar mistakes or any missing words.

Once, long ago in a hamlet far from where you are now, there lived three bright young boys. These little boys were very different from one another, and from those around them. This didn’t stop them from becoming best friends at tender age.

The first little boy was a gentle soul, sweet and kind. He came from a wealthy family, so he schooled in all manner of things and was happy to share what he learned with his two friends. He would do everything in his power to keep them happy if they were sad or lonely. He always seem to know just what was needed to cheer them up. He loved to play music for his two friends on fiddle.

The second boy was kind as well, though he was also quick and clever. He was agile and observant, he was quick to show his friends the fastest and safest routes from home and how to spot dangers on the road. He would patch up any wounds or injuries they’d accumulated in their play. Though orphaned, he learned to play flute from a traveling band and played with the first boy whenever he could.

The last little boy was quiet and shy, but fiercely loyal and protective. He would immediately put himself between his friends and danger, whether it was a runaway cart or a “vicious” dog, often needing the care and comfort his two friends offered. Not skilled with flute or fiddle, he would was skilled with his hands, making small toys and puppets to dance to their music with scraps from his stepfather’s workshop.

One cold autumn day, as the three played in the woods just outside their town, a harsh wind raked through the trees blowing everything about in a while. Amongst the brown leaves and grey sky, a bright pop of color caught the boys’ attention. It was bright red and twisted in the air. The boys followed it until it was caught in the branches of a low hanging tree.

The second little boy, the tallest of the three, climb up the tree plucked the thick red thread from the tangle of twigs, passing it down to the other two before coming down. It seemed naught more than simple thread, the only thing remarkable about it’s color. The debated what to do with it. After a time they decided to tie it to their one of the puppets the third boy had made to make it dance. And played that way for hour and hours, making small plays and stories with the thread and the puppet.

As the day waned and it grew dark, before they parted ways, they untied the string from the simple marionette, and tied their pinkies to one another so they made a closed triangle. They made a promise on the red thread that day to always be together, that they would look out for and protect one another. The third little boy just the thread so that each of them could carry a piece of their thread with them.

Now a fact that is true as it is sad, a child’s promise is often nothing in the face of the world of adults. There is no recourse for the shattering that happens when dreams are destroyed. And death, perhaps, is the cruelest of all. No one to forgive, no apology to be made, only the void left those that brought joy to a lonely soul. Death came swiftly upon the first two little boy, stealing them away by accident and circumstance that their friend could do nothing against. Thus the third little boy was left all alone when the dark winter came with only his piece of red thread as reminder of what was. But ties forged in childhood can be the ones that last the longest, even outlasting death.

**Author's Note:**

> There no more child deaths after this prolog. 
> 
> Comments and questions are always welcome.


End file.
